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The Spark that Set the World on Fire (Part 2)
= The Spark That Set the World on Fire (Part 2) = Posted by : Nim on May 3, 2018, 8:58pm - The Steamworks, The Silken Mill. Late Morning, August 21st - There ended up being substantially less spectators watching the strike than there had been the day prior. Emily and Tate had arrived in a fairly similar manner to what they had done previously, with Tate parking his vehicle at the university and then they legged it to the Silken Mill from there. The crowd was substantially less rowdy today, Emily noticed as she and Tate snuck past the picket line and joined the strikers. Westley Corbet's promise appeared to have pacified most of the strikers, and the rage they had expressed yesterday seemed more like a nervous excitement today. Or maybe they were just nervous, period. "Has Westley shown up yet?" Emily asked one of the strikers after trying and failing to get a good look into the mill. "I feel like we would have heard something had he showed up, but that is a good question," the tired-looking striker replied. "Maybe I've been standing here biting my nails off with worry for no reason, and Nestor and Corbet have been working out the details of the new rules this whole time. Let me ask Devin right quick and get you a good answer." The man then started to push through the crowd while Emily and Tate followed him. Soon, the striker came up to a big man, whom Emily recognized to be the same man that had blocked her retreat from the Militia yesterday. "Mister Morris, have we seen Corbet show up yet?" the scrawny striker asked. The giant looked down at the man. "No Leonard, Corbet has yet to grace us with his presence." "How about Nestor? Is he..." "No, Nestor hasn't returned either," the large man replied, a frown forming on his face. After glancing at the clock above the Mill's main entrance, Devin Morris looked back at the smaller man. "Only forty-five minutes until noon. I fear we might have to get ready to implement plan B." "Do you think..." "I don't know what to think. Leonard, I am going into the warehouse. Please come in to get me if Corbet finally arrives. And if he isn't here by noon, start the chant back up." "Yessir!" As the two strikers parted ways, Emily tried not to look like she had been eavesdropping on their conversation. So Westley was nowhere to be seen, and Emily wasn't sure she liked the sound of this "Plan B," whatever it was. "Ah, there you folks are!" the scrawny striker, Leonard proclaimed. "Yeah, so Devin said that Corbet hasn't shown yet. I wonder what's holding him up. I don't like being ignored like this..." "Me neither." Emily mumbled empathetically. She was hoping they would be done with this task by now. "You don't think that the Militia is going to show up again?" Tate asked suddenly. "I hope not!" the striker stated. "They have no reason to come back, do they?" Emily could see that man she'd heard referred to as Leonard was starting to get quite nervous. She saw Tate about to speak again, and she raised a finger to silence him. "I suppose they don't. Maybe Corbet ran into traffic or something," Emily said. "Yeah, maybe that's it." The striker didn't seem very convinced. "Anyway, I should probably tell Kate. She wasn't quite sure what was going either," Emily commented. "Umm, okay. I'll be here if you need anything else." "Thanks Leonard." Emily then retreated through the crowd in a random direction with Tate in tow. When they got to a less crowded area, Emily finally stopped. "Who's Kate?" Tate asked. "I made her up. I just needed an excuse to get away from that guy," Emily explained. "Clever," Tate smirked. "So why did you shush me earlier?" "I was worried you were going to explain to that guy some the reasons why the Militia might decide to come back and ruin our day, and I didn't see any benefit to making the poor man any more anxious than he already was." "Hmm, yeah, that was pretty much what I was going to do. So do you think that the Militia might come?" Emily sighed. "I really don't know what is going on right now. I suppose it's possible." "Possible, right." Tate looked and sounded worried, which wasn't helping Emily with her own anxiety. And possible it was. As the clock neared twelve, Emily heard commotion from the direction of Paramount Hill. Hers and many other heads turned in the direction of the sound, and soon, a cry of alarm was raised amoung the strikers. "Take aim... Fire!" And then all hell broke loose. The constabulary and the remaining spectators quickly made themselves scarce as the strikers were gunned down by multiple volleys of riflefire. Emily had never been so terrified in her life. Paralyzed with fear, she wasn't sure what to do until Tate grabbed her arm and dragged her toward the Mill, where a clump of other strikers were taking cover in the rubble of the column that had been destroyed by the tank yesterday. Emily forced herself to take deep breaths in order to calm down. Tate sat next to her, breathing heavily as well. Emily tried, unsuccessfully, to ignore the bullets and the screams all around her. We're going to die. Suddenly, someone else jumped into their cover position, landing, right next to her. "Whew, that was close," the figure muttered. Emily turned to look at her new neighbor and recognized him immediately. "Oh, hi Leonard." "Hello miss. It seems the Milita found a reason to kill us after all. Hey lad, can you take a look over your shoulder and see if those blighters have reached the gate yet?" Tate gestured toward himself, and when Leonard nodded, Tate carefully peeked around the piece of rubble they were behind. "Yeah they've brought up some kind of a ram..." "Okay, great." Leonard pulled a bottle out of his coat and a matchbox out of his pocket. He lit a match and dropped it into the bottle. To Emily's surprise, fire began shooting out of the bottle. Leonard then stood up, lobbed the bottle, and quickly ducked back into cover. Tate took another peak just in time for the fire to take hold and the screams to begin. "Nice throw." "Thanks," the striker replied, pulling a revolver out of a compartment in his jacket. Despite Leonard's efforts, Emily realized that the Militia would be swarming the courtyard soon. "We need to get out of here," she stated. "We do? I thought our orders were to slow these buggers down while the others rig the Mill." Emily wasn't sure what Leonard meant by that, but she knew she wanted no part in it. Thinking quickly, Emily said, "Tate and I were asked to join, uh, Devin, in the warehouse." Leonard raised an eyebrow. "Err, okay, well, in that case, I'll cover you guys while you make a break for it." "Thanks," Emily replied, realizing with a sinking feeling that Leonard was going to get himself killed for her bullshit excuse. "Where is the warehouse again?" The striker gestured toward a grim looking building behind them and to the left, then shouted, "Now go!" before rolling out of cover, leaping to his feet, and firing some rounds from his pistol. Emily didn't waste the opportunity, grabbing Tate and then sprinting toward the warehouse while trying to keep her head down. Despite running as fast as she could, Tate soon passed her, getting to the door into the warehouse well before she did. He threw it open and darted inside. Emily barely managed to catch the door before it shut. As she started to pass through, she glanced over her shoulder at the carnage being wrought behind her. Then she caught a glimpse of Leonard and let out an involuntary shriek. Leonard lay in a pool of his own blood, staring back accusingly toward her with lifeless eyes. Then Tate pulled her back and the door shut, blocking out the grisly scene outside. They appeared to be safe, at least for the time being. (OOC - Only one more part, I promise. Sorry it took an extra day to get out.)